“Whoa! Whoa! Take it easy! I’m just coming to relieve you!”
“Gonddammit Halisk!” Segwyn shook his head, returning his sword to its scabbard. “You surprised us.”
“Didn’t expect I could sneak up on two wood elves, especially on guard duty!” She giggled, her grinning smile betraying a sense of self-satisfaction. “Must have been a deep conversation! Why don’t you two get some rest, Darmor and I will take over. Magic still coming up empty?”
The ranger rubbed his fingers across his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Thanks. I didn’t realize it was this late. I’m still not sensing anything around us, so hopefully you’ll have a quiet stretch.” He patted her on the shoulder as he stepped over the low fire. Neril gave her a small grin and a nod of appreciation as they ambled towards the modest tents that did little more than staunch the wind and precipitation.
“That’s how I like it!” Halisk called after them before stoking the fire and settling in for her tour of duty.
The surrounding woods had just begun to surrender monochrome shapes from the retreating shroud of night, threatening the coming dawn as the Blades began wordlessly packing up camp. Segwyn cast his spell once more, seeking any nearby evil, and once more sensed nothing. Looking to the expectant team, he shook his head.
“Let’s go in a wide skirmish line with bows. Stay within line of sight. I’ll take middle. We’ll head due north for two hours, and I’ll try it again. Standard signal if you spot anything hinky and we all quietly converge before engaging. Understood?”
They all nodded in confirmation and quickly spread out, moving north towards the border of Eredmire and the Sshanderiusha River.
Two hours and six miles later, Segwyn called a halt before releasing his magic into the new surroundings to the same result. He pressed the team onward until the midday sun forced the forest shadows to their shortest position. Raising his hand, palm open, the Blades held position once again. They had reached the northern edge of Eredmire territory, less than a mile from the headwaters of the Shand and five miles from the Luminarium itself. Drawing a deep breath, the ranger closed his eyes and pushed the spell out from his center in all directions. And there it was. His chest tightened. There was no mistaking the incantation’s result.
His eyes snapped open, head swiveling to scan the surroundings. Nothing visible. He flipped his shoulder-length brown hair out of his face and let out a series of chirps and whistles that mimicked the call of the house wren. This was the signal to converge. Not native to the foothills and mountains, the wren was the perfect choice. There was no danger of miscommunication from local fauna, yet it sounded perfectly natural to anyone or anything that didn’t know better.
Within moments the Blades assembled at his position, bows at the ready. He made a gathering motion with his arms, calling them in close and crouching down, his leathers creaking in objection. As the elves arrived and joined the huddle, he locked eyes with each one as he spoke to reinforce the gravity of the difficult message and assess their reaction.
“I just cast the detection spell again and I got a hit…Demon.” Several members of the team involuntarily recoiled slightly before catching themselves.
“As in ‘from the lower planes of Hell’ Demon?” Halisk quipped in a hostile whisper. Her sparkling blue eyes were wide in surprise. “Here? In the Eredmire woods? How is that even possible?”
“I dunno. You all know how the spell works. I can’t tell what type, how many, or where exactly it, or they, happen to be, but there is unquestionably at least one demon within a few miles of our current position.” The ranger continued to shift his gaze from one member to the next. “Here’s what I do know; the presence of demons is more than enough justification for us to pursue outside the boundary if necessary. We will track it down and send it back to the lower planes if we can, and then we’ll figure out how it got here.” Several murmurs of quiet assent rose from the group as his attention turned to Neril. Panic haunted the recruit’s features as his eyes rapidly flitted across the landscape seeking threat or escape.
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“What if it’s too strong for us, or if there are too many of them? What do we do then? It will take a month for the Commonwealth armies to get here!” he blurted. Segwyn extended his hand palm facing down and lowered it slowly signaling his newest team member to calm down and lower his volume before gripping the younger elf’s shoulder.
“First, we find it, assess the scope of the threat, and take it from there – Okay? No one engages alone – Do you hear me?” He raised his eyebrows and looked around the huddle, not moving on until he got a nod of affirmation from each one. “If it looks like more than we can handle, we’ll get word back to Eredmire for additional support and follow discretely until help arrives. Understood?” More nods.
“Are we stringing blues or blacks?” Darmor spoke for the first time.
“Three of us on Blues, you, Halisk, and I, but wait for my mark. The rest - whites on the string until we see what we’re dealing with.”
Blues and blacks referred to the magical arrows the Blades had within their quivers. Created by the wizards of Eredmire, each squad member was issued one arrow with blue fletching, and one with black. These contrasted with their standard issue, white feathered arrows. The blue delivered an additional punch of arcane force damage, while the black conjured a volley of forty magical projectiles that rained down on the target. Both were only to be used in extreme circumstances as the cost and time of the enchantments limited supply.
“I doubt it’s to the west of us.” He continued “The terrain is pretty difficult in the mountains. If it came through one of the passes up by the Luminarium, I bet it’s headed for civilization in the lowlands, likely following the river or the road. Let’s run our line north-south perpendicular to the Shand.” He made a crude drawing on the ground among them to illustrate. “And we’ll follow it for a couple hours before I try the magic again. Darmor, take the northern end of the line and keep the river in sight. Neril - south end. I’ll take middle again.” He paused momentarily, sensing the heightened tension among the group, then added “Let’s not forget why we’re here. I realize no one signed up expecting to battle demons, but there are an awful lot of elves counting on us to keep them safe. I have complete confidence in this group’s ability to mitigate the threat. Rely on your training. Rely on each other.” He paused once more. “Once we engage, I want full communication. Most demons don’t speak Common, so we won’t be giving anything away. Until then, only hand signals and wren calls. Any questions?” Heads shook around the huddle. “Okay, let’s move out!”
The team rose and quickly spread themselves into a line perpendicular to the river and road on their left. Segwyn raised his open hand in the air, let out a deep breath hoping to calm his nerves, and then closed his fist. As one, they began to pick their way silently southwards.
Fenir Eldracum had been adamant about the importance of education for all his children. ‘Success in life is built on understanding’ delivered in his father’s flat, dismissive tone still echoed in his mind years later. He even caught himself repeating the phrase to young recruits, internally wincing as it surfaced feelings of childhood resentment each time the words left his lips. The injustice of spending warm sunny days sequestered inside the family estate, learning agriculture or inventory management, while his friends were recreating historic Elven victories with wooden swords or swimming at the lake still left a bitter taste. I guess in a way, it did ultimately lead me here. Moving systematically south, step by step, his mind wandered back to those subjects he had truly enjoyed, the fundamentals of magic, the history of successful warfare and battle tactics, and the characteristics and behaviors of wonderous creatures. A fleeting smile crossed his pursed lips. Along with the repetitive instruction in both sword and bow, it had opened his eyes to an alternative path not dominated by enology and distribution contracts. His education had exposed the opportunity to embrace the world and all its mystique. To explore, to discover. Maybe, in this case, the old man’s method wasn’t so bad after all.
Of course, he had learned about demons - academically speaking. They were categorically ruthless creatures of seemingly infinite variety that respected nothing, always hungering for more death and chaos, extremely unpredictable and hard to kill. Normally confined to the Abyss, only powerful magic or rare celestial circumstances enabled their travel to the prime material plane. His shoulders tightened in anxiety and a cold sweat tickled the back of his neck as his confidence wavered. Maybe it was better not to know. He shook his head as more of his father’s words immediately sprung to mind. Those who don’t understand the motivations of their adversary don’t even realize they’ve already lost. Although the original context was one of contract negotiation, the point was valid, nonetheless. They had a greater chance of success knowing what they were up against.
The ranger drew a deep breath and rolled his shoulders to relieve the stress that grew with each step closer to such formidable danger when he felt his forearms tingle. Glancing down, he saw every hair on his arms and hands sticking straight up. Instinctively, Segwyn buckled his knees to drop for cover. In the same moment, a kaleidoscope of blues, reds, and purples saturated his vision as a wave of heat and static rippled across the forest and over his body. The echoing crack of multiple trees separating from their roots pulsed in his ears as he hit the ground.